Roukokurou

Roukokurou was never supposed to wear the royal gold armour. They stand now as a feared Dragonslayer, their face hidden behind a Kitsune mask and streaked with war paint, but this strength was born from failure. It began with a childhood dare. They and Rikana snuck out to the monolith fields at dusk, where the sunset fractured into a thousand colours against the crystalline formations. They wanted to see the heart of the quarry, a place forbidden for its unstable magic. It was there a beast of living crystal awoke. Rikana, ever the noble one, drew their family’s blade to defend them. Roukokurou froze, then fled. When they dared to look back, only the sword remained. These days, they wield that blade and wear armour they stole in Rikana’s name. The paint is not for war; it is to hide the face of a friend who ran.